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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23892865">Made To Fit</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TooWeirdForMain/pseuds/TooWeirdForMain'>TooWeirdForMain</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Amputation, Confinement, Enemas, Forced Into Small Space, Gang Rape, Loss of Limbs, M/M, Mutilation, Priests, Rape, The Inherent Eroticism Of Amigara Fault</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 16:21:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,140</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23892865</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TooWeirdForMain/pseuds/TooWeirdForMain</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam dragged himself up and pressed a soft kiss against the beautiful shell of the box. There were tears on his face. The box had taken months to make, and had been made just for him. From the moment they'd dragged the first box into his home, they'd known he'd end up here.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel/Sam Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>99</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Made To Fit</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Please check the tags. This fic is extremely fucked up.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The box was covered in jewels, mirrored glass, beads, and gold leaf. Looking at it, Sam felt his mouth dry up, his whole body was on alert. Beside him, Castiel had stripped away his robe and the holy priest was unlocking the box.</p><p>Sam fumbled the lid open on his oil jar and spread it over Castiel's body, starting at his forehead and then down over his chest. Sam slicked Castiel's feet and thighs and stomach and finally his prick, which Sam coated completely until it dripped and he could feel Castiel harden in his hand. The priest pulled the compartment on the box open and began to sing praises.</p><p>Castiel pressed his hands against the altar and Sam helped guide him inside, the flushed head pushing into the slot. Castiel gasped and jolted, gripping the sides of the box and making desperate noises.</p><p>The priest came up behind Castiel and stroked a hand over his back, soothing him, steadying him as he trembled and thrust helplessly into the box. Soon enough, Castiel shuddered and moaned and his thrusts slowed. His hair was wet with sweat, plastered to his face.</p><p>Sam watched as Castiel carefully pulled free. There was a wet noise and then white fluid leaked from the opening and dripped down over the gold leaf.</p><p>Unthinking, Sam leant forward and took Castiel's wet cock into his mouth, licking it clean. Castiel painted and twitched but allowed it, letting Sam taste him. Sam felt himself get hard but did his best to ignore it.</p><p>Castiel was robed and anointed with more oil before they shaved off all of his hair. Sam was never sure why Castiel had wanted to become a priest, the idea of standing in front of so many people to give sermons seemed terrifying - Sam hated being stared at. But he could see it was what Castiel wanted, and he was proud of his friend.</p><p>The night after the ceremony, Castiel and the other priests came to Sam's door with a heavy wooden crate. It was big enough to fit Sam, despite his height.</p><p>"It's only a simple test. We'll return in thirty days and take the box with us, whether you're inside or not," Castiel said.</p><p>At first, it seemed like a strange kind of test. Sam tended the garden and hunted for rabbits. He cooked a large stew and ate it, before stretching out on a warm spring day under a sycamore tree. He barely remembered the box at all.</p><p>But as the days passed, he began to grow more interested. When he opened it the first time, he saw that it was padded inside. The material was pleasant to touch, softer than Sam's bed roll even.</p><p>After a while, it seemed stupid not to use it to sleep in at least. Castiel had said they'd be back for it in a month, not that Sam couldn't use it at all. And the inside of the box was so comfortable and soft, with just enough space to move around and get comfortable.</p><p>Sam spent only a few hours in there at most, enough time to sleep and that was it. And he kept the lid open too, in case he needed to get up in the night and accidentally hit his head.</p><p>Then, about a week into sleeping in the box, he had a migraine. He was out fishing in the stream when the pain came so suddenly and fiercely he found himself vomiting. He dragged himself back to the box and lay there with his hands over his eyes, blocking out the light that made everything so much worse, before remembering the lid.</p><p>Pulling the lid shut kept out not just the light but also the sounds of the birds and the smell of fresh baked bread wafting in from his kitchen.</p><p>Sam felt pulled under by sleep. And when he woke again it was bliss. The pain was gone, along with everything outside the box. The world felt muted and small and safe.</p><p>He willed himself to get up but didn't move. In the end Sam just lay there, his mind quiet and peaceful.</p><p>Eventually he left to use the bathroom, but the world felt so overly bright and loud that instead of staying out to finish his chores and make dinner he just hurried back to the box and slammed shut the lid.</p><p>He lost track of time, emerging only to piss and shit and occasionally to eat and drink. When they came back for the box he was barely aware of it until they dragged him out to bathe him and the sensation was awful, all the hot water and cold air and the powerful smell of soap</p><p>When he was clean and dry they put him naked into a different box. This one softer inside and with no space to move. They put him in face down and there was a support for his face so that he could breathe. The box had a hole underneath that they guided Sam's soft penis into so, letting him piss without having to leave the box. He sobbed with relief.</p><p>After that, they came when he needed it to feed him and clean him and slide something into his ass to flush him out. He felt himself getting weaker, unable to stand unaided while they bathed him.</p><p>A long time passed like that, or that's how it felt. Inside the box, time warped and he had no idea how much of it had already gone. He felt released, free.</p><p>Eventually, one of the men who had come to clean him spoke, the first time anyone had spoken to him in so long that it took Sam a while to understand and even longer to realise it was Castiel.</p><p>"We have prepared your final box," Castiel said. "Come and take a look."</p><p>Castiel had to half-carry Sam to the new box; he could hardly walk at all.</p><p>It was small, big enough for Sam's head and torso and nothing else. A nameless horror gripped him, but he let Castiel show him the inside anyway, which was so soft, covered with silks and velvet. The outside was far more elaborate than any of the boxes he'd seen before, pearls and rubies and white gold and carved with sweeping curling shapes. Sam ached for it and dreaded it like nothing else. This one had a larger hole at the back.</p><p>Castiel helped Sam to push his fingers into the new hole and he realised that this opening lined up with where his ass would be. </p><p>"With this," Castiel told him, "we can empty you out while you are inside. You never have to come back out."</p><p>Sam tried to imagine himself walking away, going back to his life from before. Gardening, walking in the woods, plunging his feet into the creek behind his old house in the summertime.</p><p>But he couldn't make himself take his hand out of the hole, the plush silk around his fingers. After a while, Castiel guided Sam's hand free and he knelt down beside the box. Sam wanted to run, he wanted to want to run. He couldn't make himself want anything but to be back in the dark, the quiet.</p><p>Sam dragged himself up and pressed a soft kiss against the beautiful shell of the box. There were tears on his face. The box had taken months to make, and had been made just for him. From the moment they'd dragged the first box into his home, they'd known he'd end up here.</p><p>"You should have put me in there first," Sam said.</p><p>Castiel crouched beside him and kissed Sam's cheek.</p><p>The other priests came. They crushed herbs and flowers and mixed them into hot water, which Castiel coaxed Sam carefully to drink. Sam tried to fight at first, spitting it out and holding his mouth closed, but Castiel was patient and the more Sam drank the harder it became to fight back. Then Castiel took a bone needle and jabbed it into his arm. Sam felt no pain, and watched with faint interest the way the blood welled up.</p><p>The priests tied him tightly to a table and Castiel helped him drink more of the numbing mixture, which took him further away from himself so that Sam felt he was watching through the eyes of a spectator as they tied tight ropes around his arms and legs.</p><p>Sam's feet and hands were large and long-fingered, almost beautiful. He watched his fingers and toes twitch helplessly as the tourniquets were tied, though he could feel nothing.</p><p>Sam had loved burying his hands in the piles of dry grain in the storehouse, the hiss of them passing through his fingers. The tourniquet on his right arm was tightened further and his fingertips turned paler and paler until they were almost white. Dead.</p><p>The blade they used was sharp, but they paused often to sharpen it. Each time, Castiel made Sam drink more of the hot mixture to keep him numb and far away.</p><p>The first day they took both of his arms, the next his legs, and the third day they eased him back at last into soft darkness. Every contour of his body was supported by the new box, which kept his spine and his neck in place.</p><p>Each time the numbness retreated and pain returned Castiel would dose him again, helping him to sink back into the quiet.</p><p>Every day they took him out and cleaned him and Castiel changed his bandages, rubbing soothing cream over the stumps where Sam's arms and legs had been.</p><p>After some time had passed, Castiel removed the bandages and did not replace them. Instead, Sam was bathed and anointed with oil.</p><p>Castiel fastened a device to Sam's dick. It was cold and metal and had to be locked into place. Then, Castiel slid something up into Sam's slit until it hit something deep inside. Sam heard himself piss before he felt it, and was surprised to feel ashamed.</p><p>He begged, perhaps out loud, and the box was brought. The tube in Sam's prick was pushed through a tiny hole in the bottom as they lowered Sam inside. The high priest chanted blessings as the lid closed over Sam's oiled, naked flesh. There was an impossible cacophonous bang, and another, and another, jolting the box. Sam came at last to understand that the box  was being nailed shut.</p><p>Time passed. There was a click, distant humming.</p><p>His ass was forced open as something started to push inside, something hot and alive. His whole body shivered as it pushed in a short way and retreated, then pushed again, each time opening him more and more. Moving deeper into him.</p><p>Sam was sweating against the box's lining, trying to get away from the sensation, but he couldn't move even an inch. It was with a jolt that he remembered Castiel. His prick sliding into the sacred box, his helpless noises. Sam wondered if Castiel was the one inside him now.</p><p>The noises outside were muffled. Sam's body opened for it and the cock slid as deep as it could go. The raw, painful drag of it over his insides made him the most aware of his body he had been since he first went into the box.</p><p>Sam felt his mouth open, felt himself make noise, but it was so muffled that he barely heard it. There was a pause and then the thrusts sped up. He felt his own cock begin to twitch in its cage. The whole box shook.</p><p>Then, stillness, a few clumsy thrusts, and Sam was empty again. A moment or two later and hot liquid spilled from his hole.</p><p>Barely any time passed before there was more humming and another cock worked its way into him. Sam already felt so swollen and hot inside, every inch of it stretching him, forcing him open.</p><p>Sam's dick felt tight and painful, pressing against the cage and stretched around the tube inside it.</p><p>It took longer this time. Sam felt almost feverish, hot and shivering all over. The box creaked around him. Everything went still and his hole was wet as the second man slid out.</p><p>With the oil and the cum already inside him to ease the way, Sam felt different when it happened the third time. Wetter, slicker. His cock was leaking into its tube as he was fucked a third time. He didn't try to escape any more. It was what he was for, what had been coming since Sam had seen that first gold box and helped guide Castiel inside it.</p><p>Sam had been chosen. He belonged where he was. They took a long time with him before flushing him out and shutting him back up inside the dark.</p>
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